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You Are A Traitor, Mr. Veigler


NEWT'S STORY CONTINUES...


”Alohamora!”

Tina and Newt ran about to the cages, unlocking them, letting the children out. Tina counted them, touching their heads, making sure they had thirty-seven accounted for - thirty-eight, counting Bradley - and when they were absolutely certain they were all there, Newt put the briefcase onto the floor and unbuckled the locks. “Hurry; hurry. Off - off you go.” Newt looked up, “One of us needs to go with them,” he sa id. What he meant was for Tina to get into the briefcase.

“It should be you,” Tina said.

“M-me?” Newt asked, his face folding in disapproval, “Why - why would it be me?”

“Because these children need medical care some of them, you’re better at that than I am,” Tina said.

“But we’ve got to - to get away from a pack of dangerous werewolves and --”

“And I’m just as qualified to duel as you are,” Tina reminded him, “I was an auror, after all.”

Newt stared at her.

“Go. Take care of these children, Newt. They need you.”

“But - but you - you might need me, too.”

Tina reached out and put her hand on Newt’s cheek and he closed his eyes at her touch, then opened them up to look at her. She was the only person on the planet that could have put her hand on his face - anyone else and he would’ve folded into a quivering mass of anxiety. His eyes were watery as he looked up at her.

“Teeny…”

“Go.”

Newt hesitated.

Go.”

He turned to the briefcase - the children were almost all inside now. He beckoned for Bradley, “Here you, uh, you are, Mr. Baker,” he said and he held out his hand to help Bradley climb down into the briefcase. He turned and stepped in himself, and just before he disappeared within, he stared at Tina for a long moment. “Prom-promise me you’ll - you’ll be okay.”

“I promise.”

He stared at her, his eyes moist and lower lip trembling against his teeth a moment, then he said, “Teeny, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mr. Scamander.”

His throat ached and he ducked into the case.

Tina shut it fast and clicked the hinges and stood up, lifting it with her. She drew a deep breath, then promptly choked on the filth in the air and hurried out of the dungeon, back into the main part of the house. She hurried through the kitchen, her eyes flickering to a horrible portrait of the man, Tom Riddle - Voldemort - which hung on the wall. She made a face at it and ran for the door.

There was no telling where the Gorgon had gone, where the Centaurs and Giants and Goblins had gone. The dementors hissed and seethed as Tina ran past them, holding her wand high, the glowing patronus filling the air above her as she went, ducking past the bones and back into the trees. She needed to get back to the village, where she could apparate, and get them out of there…

She bolted down the path that led away from the house, figuring it was clear so it was faster to run and the wolves were somewhere among the trees, and so she could see if they were ahead of her this way, could see what was behind her. It felt safer. So she ran as hard as she could.

Until she heard a yelping cry through the trees.

One she recognized.

“Ned,” she whispered, and she paused in her running, staring in the direction it had come from.




The wolf form of Ned Veigler lay on the bracken, bleeding and torn. Fenrir Greyback stood over him, the rest of the werewolf army surrounded them, making a ring of wolves that snarled and snapped in his direction. Ned lay still, no energy left to fight, his shoulder torn open to the bone. He whimpered involuntarily, the wolf in him unable to hold it back. A stone pressed into his ribs from beneath him.

I am your Alpha. Greyback hissed, circling him, teeth bared. Get up.

Ned struggled, compelled by Greyback, and he fought to get to his feet, legs so weak they barely functioned as legs. He let out a yelping cry as he put weight on the foot that ended in the horrid tear in his skin. But he did it. He did it because he had no choice, because the Alpha had commanded him to get up and so get up he must, and he stood there, wobbly in his weakened state, and looked up at Greyback’s yellow eyes.

You betrayed me, Greyback’s wolf paced before Ned - to and fro and to and fro. Two years ago, you let me down, you let the Boy get away. Orion Black is dead because of the failures you caused. The Boy lives against Voldemort’s wishes. Because of you. You have stopped the Dark Lord from rising according to plan.

Veigler’s wolf shivered.

You are a traitor, Mr. Veigler...

He held his head high.

Do you know the payment for your betrayal to your Alpha, Omega? Greyback stopped before him.

Ned Veigler’s wolf eyes flashed to Greyback’s, the blood dripping over his fur from his shoulder...

Bare your neck.

The wolf laid down and turned to his side… stretching his head up, exposing his neck to the Alpha wolf, his throat vulnerable.

Very good. Fenrir Greyback’s grey, ridge-backed wolf moved closer, baring his teeth - long and sharp and deadly, dripping with venomous saliva, his eyes flashing over the prone wolf before him... ready to eat.

STUPEFY!”

Fenrir Greyback fell, stunned, as Tina Scamander ran into the clearing where the wolves circled about. Several of them reeled back in surprise at their Alpha’s fall. Others snapped and snarled menacingly. “Stupefy!” Tina aimed her wand around, hitting a couple others with the spell. A few more ran into the trees. One launched himself at her from among the trees, and she shouted ,”Petrificus totalus!” and the wolf froze mid-leap, crashing to the ground like a boulder.

Tina could see the cut on Ned’s shoulder - the flesh torn away in great half-moon chunks. She gasped. “Ned, no.” Without thinking of it - without hesitating over it - Tina Scamander hurried forward, kneeling beside the broken wolf, and she reached up to stroke his neck, to comfort him…

And his eyes flashed.

He was a werewolf after all. Not Ned Veigler.

A werewolf on a full moon night.

And he would never forgive himself for what happened next.




Inside the briefcase, Newt Scamander had healed countless cuts and bruises. He’d given twelve of the children sleeping draughts already, had more brewing in a huge cauldron he’d rolled out from the shed, given several quivering little ones doses of the diluted venom of Swooping Evil to erase the poor memories… He handed out chocolate frogs to the children still crying - he had a lifetime supply, after all, provided by the Bertie Bott’s company after they’d used his likeness on one of their Frog cards. Every time he took one out of the box, a new one apparated in it’s place so he had no need to be stingy with the chocolate frogs. “Have… have as many as you like,” he told Quirinus Quirrell, who had already consumed three. Bradley Baker clung to Newt Scamander’s leg as he stirred the brewing draught.

“Mr. Newt, is Teeny ok?” Bradley asked.

“Y-yes,” stammered Newt, nodding, determined not to think otherwise. “She, uh, she promised.”

Bradley had tears in his eyes. “I want her to be ok.”

“I - I do, too,” Newt replied. He lifted a vial and uncorked it, sniffed the contents, and poured it into the cauldron.

“Mr. Newt?” Bradley asked.

“Yes?”

“Where’s my mummy?”

Newt paused in stirring the potion, his eyes staring into the soft blue liquid. He waved his palm and the spoon stirred the cauldron itself without Newt’s help at it. He put his palms down on the wood countertop, leaning against them, and drew a deep breath. He didn’t know how to talk to Bradley Baker about his mum… This was why it should’ve been Tina who came into the case with the children, he thought. He might be better at physically healing them… but he was by no means the man who should be emotionally healing them. He stood awkwardly, trying to work out what to say.

“Has mummy gone to heaven like my Daddy?” Bradley asked tremulously.

Newt stared at the wall, his amber eyes glistening with tears at the words and he sniffed, wiping his nose with his fist and he turned to look down at Bradley.

“She has, hasn’t she?” Bradley choked.

Newt knelt down. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even look the boy in the eyes, though he tried really hard he just couldn’t and he crouched there and then - very awkwardly - he reached out a hand and offered Bradley a hug. It took all Newt’s strength and courage to do it. Bradley stepped into it and he wrapped his arms around Newt’s neck and Newt let him at it and petted his back, Newt’s discomfort at the human contact clear upon his face at first… then slowly melting away to surrender to it until he finally was able to wrap his arms around the little boy and hold him tight.

“I’m so sorry,” Newt whispered. “So sorry.”

Suddenly there was a loud crash on the roof of the laboratory and Newt looked up.

“What was that?” cried several of the children that were sitting around the room.

Newt slowly pulled away from Bradley, his heart thumping in his throat as another thump on the roof of the case came. He sprinted for the ladder, “Stay - stay here,” he commanded the kids. He pulled himself up the wood steps to the lid of the case and he pushed it open, his wand in his fist, and stuck his head out.

Ned Veigler’s wolf was running right for him, teeth bared, eyes glowing yellow. He let out an exclamation and drew his wand quickly, “Arresto momentum.” The wolf was instantly halted in midair and began snarling and slashing from where he hung and Newt leaned back, away from it as slobber flew through the air in great drops. He pulled himself out of the case, “Petrificus totalus!” There were other snarls and snaps coming from the trees around him and he hastily waved his wand, “Protego maxima!” and a bubble of shimmering white light encased the clearing, like a giant umbrella. He looked around and there was Greyback, stunned and still on the ground, and a couple other wolves as well. And Ned, of course, and the case and -- there on the ground behind the case, lay Tina.

She had a deep gash across her chest - claws. There was blood positively everywhere, staining her shirt - her jacket open, blouse torn, her eyes open but unfocused as she gasped for air, convulsing on the ground.

“TEENY!” Newt cried and he leaped over the open lid of the case, his heart in his throat as he threw himself to her side, dropping his wand. The shield charm held steady, though it would only last so long now that he wasn’t continuing the spell, but his mind was too caught up on Tina to worry about that right now. He grabbed her up into his hands, “No. Tina, no. Don’t you - don’t you dare.”

She stared up at him with sad eyes and reached up a shaking hand to touch his face. Her blood was on her hand and it was on his face, her prints on his temple, on his cheek…

“You promised... You - you promised,” he said.

Tina’s eyes fluttered closed.

Newt shook his head, “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t close your, your eyes. Teeny, open your eyes. Look - look at me.”

She opened them at his persistence and stared up at him.

“Mr. Newt?” Bradley was coming out of the case.

Newt couldn’t look away from Tina.

“Mr. Newt?”

Bradley was stepping around the case…

And suddenly the boy was flattened to the ground beneath the weight of a werewolf.

The boy let out a cry.

“No!” Newt yelled, and he turned away from Tina, throwing himself toward Bradley, trying to catch the boy out of the way before Ned Veigler’s wolf could bite --- Newt Scamander managed to shove Ned Veigler over and he raised his wand, “Stupefy!” and Ned Veigler was stunned once again.

But it was too late. The teeth had sunk into Bradley Baker’s tiny little bicep. The puncture holes deep and wide and bloody and Bradley stared at the wound a moment, his eyes wide, and he looked up at Newt for but a moment before the change began.

“No. No.” Newt twisted between helping Tina and helping the tiny boy that was contorting and shivering away right before his eyes. Tina choked on air, the boy’s bones cracked, Newt stood helpless in the middle, unable to save either one, and he fell to his knees again and then, with glance at Tina… he knew which she’d want him to do… and he crawled to the boy. He grabbed the boy’s hand just before it twisted and turned into a tiny little paw… and his button nose grew wet and leathery and his bright blue eyes turned yellow and dark and a tiny snout shot from his face, his body sprouting little dark grey hairs all over head to foot. Newt reached into his coat pocket and withdrew thick dragon hide gloves, which he pulled over his hands and then he scooped the tiny little wolf up as the boy’s cries melting from human to whimpers to the saddest, most tinest little howl that had ever rung through the trees…

Awooo,” wailed the ickle bitty wolf… no more than a quarter stone weight... and he rolled over in Newt’s palm and bit at the thumb of the dragon hide gloves, nipping them with his teeth, as ferocious as a tiny thing like he was could be.